


Settle Slowly

by santanico



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, M/M, Sub!Dean, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the kink prompt: Dean/Cas, exhibitionism. <br/>Dean and Cas share a certain trust in their relationship. As most things seem to, it evolves. It becomes something other. Dean isn't complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Settle Slowly

Sometimes, when it’s just Dean and Cas for whatever reason, they end up in cheap diners. Cheap diners because a.) they’re cheap and b.) Dean sort of likes cheap diner burgers. And they remind him of what life used to be like, whether that’s good or bad.

Dean likes cheap diners and he likes proving himself. Which is…a surprising trait. It did take him a while to grow accustomed to it, to admit to it. But – with Cas it’s just different. He’s more relaxed. He’s more himself. He likes to think it makes him a better person, more open to what Castiel has to offer. And usually – almost 100% of the time – Castiel offers up something good.

Sitting across from him in the booth before they receive their orders (Dean got a bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries and Cas ordered barbeque ribs with coleslaw, for fuck’s sake), Castiel leans in close and whispers into Dean’s ear, “Jack off in the bathroom for a minute. Wash your hands and come back. Don’t take more than one minute.”

Dean has become an expert on resisting the urge to shudder when Castiel says something like that. He glances around the diner quickly (it’s mostly empty, an old couple sitting on the other side and two kids with their parents being messy closer to the front) and then shuffles off to the bathroom, counting the seconds in the back of his head. Castiel tends to allow a little leeway (he usually only starts keeping track once Dean’s already in the bedroom) but Dean still likes to see how fast he can do it – how he can work under pressure.

He slides into the furthest stall, though there’s no one else in the slightly grimy bathroom (he’s seen worse but he’s definitely seen better), shifting over the toilet and unzipping his jeans. He’s gotten better at that too, and he tries to focus on the time again as he fists his cock, pumps himself roughly and thinks about the heat curling low in his belly. He gets to thirty seconds and he’s already starting to feel edgy, something about the fact that he’s in a public bathroom getting to him more than it usually does. His legs are shaking.

Dean straightens up hurriedly, tucking his cock back in his jeans and resisting the urge to just wipe his hands on his thighs and go (Cas will know, Cas will check). He slips back out of the stall and turns on the water quickly, pumps the soap and cleans himself as thoroughly as he can. Twenty seconds left. He grabs a paper towel and makes as much use of it as possible before pushing the bathroom door open and walking back to the booth.

It feels like it’s been an age. He sits back down and Cas is actually pondering the dessert menu. If it were anyone else (not that it ever would be), Dean would feel nervous. But he’s learned by now that Castiel isn’t ignoring him. He just isn’t giving him what he wants.

“Hands.” Castiel’s voice isn’t harsh or suspicious, but it is demanding, and Dean follows orders easily, holding out his clean hands above the table. Cas sets down the menu and touches Dean’s skin, runs his fingers over Dean’s and eyes his hands curiously for a moment, thumb moving over knuckle. “Alright.” He sits back, finally looking up and smiling. “You did well.”

Something jumps embarrassingly quickly within Dean and he swallows, reaching for his glass of water. He takes a drink slowly, hoping that he’s hiding the excitement that’s making him want to shake from inside his core. Cas does that to him. Cas always seems to do that to him.

Their meals come not soon after, but it’s hard for Dean to concentrate on the burger (which is rather good, all things considered) when Cas is sitting across from him, still smiling.

-

This hotel room is nicer – it’s one of the nicest Dean’s ever been to, in fact. The walls aren’t painted some horrid color, nor do they have kittens or puppies as wallpaper, and the bathroom looks marginally smooth and clean (the bath space is large enough with actually glass doors and holy shit, that’s really nice), and the bed in the middle of the room is inviting.

“Strip.”

Of course, Cas’ deep voice still holds a commanding tone, and at this point, Dean doesn’t even really hesitate.

He unbuttons his shirt quickly, trying to keep his hands steady. He doesn’t do a very good job but it gets off and it drops to the ground. He swallows and tries to focus again, tries not to think about being afraid or even being excited. He pulls his t-shirt off and drops it too, then unbuttons and unzips his pants before remembering to tug off his boots. He finally gets his jeans off and then his underwear, and he’s standing naked with Cas mostly likely staring at his backside. He tries not to blush.

A hand touches the small of his back and he jumps – the fingers are, perhaps intentionally, cold. “Pick up your clothes,” Castiel says slowly, and fold them neatly beside the bed.”

Dean closes his eyes for a second and collects himself. The order is simple, and logically it shouldn’t turn him on. He tries not to think about it too hard as he bends down and picks up his shirt, turning it back the right way and folding carefully. He repeats this behavior and sets his clothes in a neat pile in front of the bedside table. When he’s done he lets himself look at Castiel for the first time since he’d stripped.

Castiel appraises him for a moment, still completely dressed. “Sit on the bed,” he commands easily, and somehow Cas is a master at giving quick orders, at having a smooth voice which just says ‘authority figure’, and maybe it’s bad that Dean gets off on that so much.

But Cas also understands. Has never judged him. Has never shamed him.

Sometimes just wraps his arms around Dean when he’s fucking him and kisses his shoulder and neck and whispers, “Good boy.” Dean likes that. It feels like a connection, and he believes in that connection. He has to.

He sits on the bed like he was told and tries to keep his arms still. He’s naked and exposed and he’s thinking, in an almost gleeful manner, about the possibilities of what Cas is going to ask him to do. The incident in the diner wasn’t exactly uncommon; the use of public spaces to make Dean’s life harder has always been something that Castiel dabbles in, but it always comes out the same way, always means that they fit together.

“Get on your hands and knees.” Dean’s body goes tense. “Prop yourself against the pillow if you need to. Start touching yourself. Don’t come.”

Dean wouldn’t dare to, but the instruction gives a whole new sensation to the experience. He does as Castiel tells again, rolling onto his stomach obediently. The hotel is a little too cool and it feels strange against his ass, propped awkwardly into the air. The position is weird but he holds himself by his elbow on one of the pillows, his other hand between his legs as he spreads his knees for balance.

“Good,” Castiel murmurs, and even that quietly his voice sounds pleased. It helps Dean relax as he fists himself again and begins to pump his cock slowly, blood rushing and need pulling slow and tight. “Close your eyes.”

He still doesn’t hesitate. But he can hear as Castiel begins to strip and shuffle through the room. Now Dean’s barely using his hand, just enjoying the slow pulls. He runs his thumb over the slit of his cock and gasps just a little, his hips jerking into it. He gives himself a few seconds to relax again, listening to Castiel close the dresser drawer behind him.

The bed creeks. “You’re a show off.” Castiel isn’t asking. He’s stating.

Dean takes another deep breath and nods. He hadn’t intended it but he likes the way the words sound, he likes how Cas is accusing him of being extravagant. It makes him feel guilty, makes him feel like there’s something for him to repent for.

“You do it for me, don’t you?” Castiel’s lips graze his back and Dean represses another shiver, his hand still guiding over his dick slowly. He doesn’t think he could control it if he was moving any faster, the slick making it too easy, the barely there touches making him want to give up, to stop being obedient. But he never does. “You like to…” Cas’ lips draw over his spine and down to between his hips, near the crack of his ass. Cas breathes the final word into the skin, “perform.”

“Yes,” Dean croaks, and he’s surprised his voice is so hoarse – embarrassed by it, nearly. He takes another long breath. He tries to focus. He tries not to come.

“That’s it,” Cas says softly, voice kind and full of praise. Dean almost collapses under the release of pressure, how fucking good it feels, but he holds himself together out of sheer will to please. To make Cas proud. It’s true, he just wants Castiel to admire him. To say that he’s done a good job.

It’s such a hard thing to admit. It definitely took a long time for him to admit.

“Suck on my fingers.” Cas’ index and middle finger trace Dean’s lips slowly for a short second before Dean takes them in, sucks and licks and moves his tongue, gets them soaked. He can anticipate what’s coming with ease, knows what to expect, knows that Cas is going to use these fingers. “Good…” Castiel says quietly, his other hand resting on Dean’s hip. He presses up against Dean’s side and back just slightly, and Dean can feel the lean muscle and Cas’ hard cock against his skin and his own cock twitches – he squeezes it and continues to jerk off even though it’s torture.

Castiel’s first finger nudges at his hole, not a surprise but still a feeling Dean doesn’t think he’ll ever quite adjust to. He doesn’t shiver or twitch; he’s learned better control now. He keeps himself relaxed, tries to keep his thighs from quivering, and Castiel holds him up gently but powerfully. He makes Dean feel safe.

The second finger breaches not soon after, and Castiel starts to slide them in and out carefully, giving Dean what he wants but not quite what he needs. His arm is getting tired. His cock is getting impatient.

But Cas works him open slowly. Castiel scissors and twists his fingers together, pushes in to the third knuckle until Dean can’t help himself, he’s bucking back, gasping sharply. Castiel is finger fucking him hard now, and Dean shakes with him, finds that they’re building into a rhythm that he wasn’t expecting at all. He never expects it.

Then they’re gone, and Dean only has a few second to adjust before he hears the ripping of a condom wrapper, the uncapping and squeeze of lube, hard hands on Dean’s hips, reminding him where he is. Castiel positions him and thrusts his hips, slow and careful at first. As usual it’s a strange feeling, it’s exactly like Castiel is pulling him open, but as he gets used to it it gets better. He remembers who this is. Cas. It’s always Cas. Holding him open and keeping him safe. Cas won’t hurt him. Even with the fingers tugging his hair, even with the other hand joining Dean’s on his cock – Castiel is taking care of him.

“Fuck,” Dean whispers, and his voice is still so hoarse and thin like wire, Castiel pulling him back by the hair as he starts to fuck into him harder, a pace that keeps them both moving with each other, Dean rocking his hips back despite his own exhausition, despite everything that’s going on. Castiel doesn’t give him a second to think, doesn’t give him a moment’s worth of doubt as he picks up the speed of his thrusts, how his hand moves on Dean’s cock.

Dean can hardly breathe at this point. At one point his breath hitches harshly and he can start to feel his orgasm building quick and hard, unexpected. And when he comes it’s like that again, unable to breathe normally, barely aware of reality. Cas does it, wraps his arms around Dean’s and buries himself in deeper, fucks him harder than before and kisses his throats, bites down on his shoulder. “Thank you,” Cas murmurs and he comes too, then, staying inside of Dean for what feels like a long time before he finally pulls out.

When he isn’t on top of Dean, holding him in position, Dean collapses almost immediately. He doesn’t care that there’s come on the sheets, doesn’t care that it’s his, even. He waits, almost falling into a happy slumber as Castiel tosses the condom and does something amazing to make the sheets dry again.

“Come on,” Cas whispers, pulling Dean closer to him. “Get under the sheets.”


End file.
